


The Tiger and the Bear

by Darth_Tantrum



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, angst-to-fluff, one-sided Yurio/Victor, parental homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 14,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10819344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Tantrum/pseuds/Darth_Tantrum
Summary: Now that Victor Nikiforov is officially off the market, and Yuri Plisetsky's relationship with Otabek is progressing steadily, if slowly, Yuri can finally put his stupid childhood crush behind him. Right?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Because this is written mostly from Yurio's point of view, and I don't think he refers to himself as Yurio, I've chosen to use his actual name, Yuri, in this fic. To avoid mixing him up with Katsuki Yuri, I've decided to go with the fanon spelling of "Yuuri" even though canonically they spell their names the same.
> 
> All aboard the angst train!

Yuri Plisetsky hated that fucking pig. Yuuri Katsuki had taken so much from him; the chance to have _the_ Victor Nikiforov coach him, the chance to compete against Victor at his senior-level debut, even his fucking name. _Yurio_. Fucking Nikiforov. Traitorous old bastard. What had Yuri ever seen in him?

Yuri wasn’t sure how that fat loser had managed it. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Of course, Yuri couldn’t compete with Yuuri—not for what he really wanted. After the goddamn spectacle that damned pig made at the banquet… climbing on that pole with Christophe… practically crawling all over Victor… disgusting.

And entirely unfair. How could he compete with that? At fifteen, he couldn’t very well be seen stripping and gyrating on his adult competitors.

Maybe, if Victor had given Yuri the _Eros_ routine, he could have shown… No. He was acting like a fool and torturing himself by thinking that way. He was only fifteen; of course, Victor wouldn’t be able to see it. Not yet, anyway.

If the old man had been able to keep it in his pants for just three more years, Yuri would have turned eighteen and something could have been done.

But, no. That fucking pig Yuuri had to come and ruin everything. Victor was supposed to be his coach. Victor was supposed to be his competitor.

Victor was supposed to be _his_.

And he would have been. Yuri had it all planned out. He’d go to the Grand Prix Final, win gold, and show Victor—show everyone—that he wasn’t just some kid. He’d convince Victor to come home, to forget all about that damned pork cutlet bowl and go back to the way things were. The way things were supposed to be. They’d both train under Yakov and in a few years… he would see. He would realize.

But then Victor and Yuuri had shown up with those rings, talking about how they were going to get _married_ after Yuuri won the gold. It wasn’t enough just to win and get Victor back into competitions. He had to show Victor that he was the best—the best skater, the best option, the best Yuri. He had to make Victor realize that Yuuri couldn’t make him happy.

He did everything he could. He practiced as much as they would allow him, he focused on his routine, he skated until he thought his heart might explode out of his chest. He won gold.

And it still wasn’t enough.

Fine, he thought. Let the fat pig have Victor, if that was what Victor wanted. Yuri didn’t need him.

He didn’t need anybody.

Except…

“Yuri.”

Yuri looked up from unlacing his skates into the dark eyes of Otabek Altin, who’d come to Russia to practice with Yuri and for a short visit. It was just a few weeks, and it was almost over, but it had been nice to spend time with his friend… and maybe more.

“Da?”

Otabek smiled—a rare, but breathtaking occurrence. “I’m going to grab some dinner. Would you care to join me?”

There was something about the look in his eye when he asked that made Yuri’s heart skip a beat and a hot flush spread over his cheeks. He swallowed thickly and glanced away with a nod. “Yea, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Otabek hummed softly and placed a warm hand against the small of Yuri’s back. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.” He leaned down and brushed his lips chastely against Yuri’s temple. “Yuri.”

Yuri’s back stiffened briefly before he relaxed into Otabek’s hand. “I won’t.”

To hell with Yuuri Katsuki.

And to hell with Victor Nikiforov.

He had something better. He didn’t need Victor. He didn’t _want_ Victor.

 

 

…right?


	2. Chapter Two

“Victor and the pig invited me to Hasetsu for training.”

Otabek glanced up from his pelmeni. “Oh? Are you planning to go?”

Yuri shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not. I have no interest in seeing those two losers.”

“I think you should go. It would be good for you.”

“What? Are you serious? Why?”

The older boy watched Yuri’s face for a long moment, clearly contemplating his next words carefully. The intensity in his stare felt unnerving, but Yuri couldn’t place why.

Finally, Otabek shrugged. “You said you liked Hasetsu. Katsuki’s family runs a hot spring, don’t they? You’d probably be staying there, wouldn’t you? You’ve been very tense. You could use the vacation.” He paused. “Besides, training with Victor could be very helpful. Last year you wanted him to be your coach. I’d think you’d be glad for the opportunity to work with him.”

Otabek’s dark eyes pierced through Yuri’s aggressive shield, making his heart skip a beat then almost stop. “Is there some other reason you wouldn’t want to go?”

“No,” Yuri conceded reluctantly.

Of course, he had no interest in training with Victor now that the pig Yuuri had taken him off the market. Yuri had no reason to want to work with Victor, no desire to impress him, knowing that all they would ever be is competitors. He’d rather show Victor—show everybody—what he’s made of during competitions, where it matters.

But, the last thing he wanted was to admit that to Otabek.

Yuri had never come right out and told anyone that he had a crush on Victor Nikiforov, but he’d never had to. Apparently, it had been obvious to everyone; except for Victor himself, of course. Or maybe that much had just been wishful thinking on Yuri’s part, to save himself the embarrassment of his obviously unrequited lo—

Crush.

He didn’t want his friend—his boyfriend?—to think that he still had feelings for Victor and the reason he didn’t want to go to Hasetsu was because he couldn’t stand seeing such a prince with that fucking loser.

Because that wasn’t it _at all_.

“So,” Otabek said firmly. “If you have no reason not to go, you should go, right? It makes sense.”

“Da.” Yuri pushed his soup around in the bowl, suddenly not so hungry. “Maybe after, I’ll come see you in Kazakhstan. I’d like to see your home rink.”

Otabek’s eyes softened and he nodded. “Yes. I would like that, Yuri.”  
Yuri grinned mischievously. “Hey, while we’re there, maybe you can take me to one of the clubs. I want to see you DJ again—”

“No,” Otabek cut him off with a stern look. “You’re still too young. And if I’d known you were going to follow me to Poblenou I’d have had Yakov lock you in your room.”

“You liked it,” Yuri scoffed, slumping back in his seat.

The corner of Otabek’s mouth twitched upward in a faint ghost of a smirk. “Even so.”

Yuri felt his cheeks burning red and grumbled under his breath. “We should probably be getting back. You have an early flight tomorrow.”

Otabek hummed in agreement and motioned for the check. After a minor battle with Yuri over who would pay—“I suggested we eat out.” “You’re my guest!”—they agreed to split it by paying for each other’s meals and headed back to Otabek’s hotel.

Yuri kicked at the carpet outside of the door. “I guess I’ll see you whenever I make it out to Kazakhstan. Enjoy your flight. I hope there are no screaming babies.” He paused, frowning while he tried to think of something else to say other than _goodbye_. “Call me when you land, so I know—”

His words fell away as surprisingly soft lips brushed a barely-there kiss against his own.

This was the first time the two had kissed. The attraction between them had been obvious from that first glance in the hotel lobby in Spain, leaving Yuri so flustered all he could do was swear, but they hadn’t done much about it. Certainly, they’d been affectionate; light touches, quick hugs, and kisses on the cheeks or forehead if they were feeling particularly risqué.

But this—this made it official. This proved that what they were—whatever they were—was a far cry from “very good friends.” This was real. This was a rush. This was…

This was _magical_.

Otabek pulled away far too soon for Yuri’s liking, leaving the younger nearly breathless. “Good night, Yuri.”

If it weren’t for the fact that Yuri’s grandpa would be expecting him home soon, he would have pushed Otabek back through that door and not left until morning. But, as it stood, he did have to get home, as much as he never wanted to leave.

So, he nodded faintly. “Da. Good night.”

Otabek smiled, pressed another chaste kiss against the corner of Yuri’s mouth, then disappeared.


	3. Chapter Three

“Yuri!” Mila called across the rink. “Your boyfriend just texted you!”

“Put down my phone, you hag!” he screeched back. “And stay out of my stuff!”

“He wants you to know that he arrived home safe and sound. Oh, how sweet!” She hummed and tapped her finger against her temple, feigning contemplation. “What should we text him back?”

Yuri snarled and carefully made his way off the ice, snatching the phone away from her with little effort as she giggled. “Stay out of my stuff, bitch.”

Mila faked a frown. “Oh, Yuri. You’re so mean,” she whined. Offering him a genuine smile, she went on, “I think it’s nice that you and Otabek have hit it off so well. Maybe now you’ll stop obsessing over Victor.”

“I am not obsessed with Victor!”

“Enough of this!” Yakov bellowed. “Back to work! Yuri, don’t think that because you won last year’s Grand Prix that you can start slacking off, now!”

Yuri growled. “In a minute! I’ve been on the ice since six this morning! You can give me thirty more seconds!” He muttered obscenities under his breath as he typed out a response.

“You know,” Mila said, leaning against the rink barrier. “I meant what I said. I really am happy that you and Otabek have gotten so close. Judging by the way he looked at you while he was here, it’s obvious that he cares a lot about you. It’s good that you’re seeing someone your own age.

“Even if you weren’t obsessed, that thing with Victor wasn’t healthy. It’s good that someone is finally getting you past it.”

“This isn’t about Victor,” Yuri snapped. “ _Nothing_ is about Victor.” He sent his message and threw his phone back in his bag, then glided back out to the ice.

_Good. I’ll call you when I’m done with practice. x Yuri_

* * *

Otabek smiled at his phone before setting in on the nightstand and collapsing back onto his bed. Even though he’d been back home in Almaty for over a year, it still felt surreal to be in his own bed. After spending so many years moving from rink to rink, it was difficult for him to consider anything home.

Especially when home was so… lonely.

A loud crash and the sound of his little sisters running through the halls, followed promptly by his mother yelling something about messed up dinner, pulled his attention and he sighed. Lonely, but never alone, he thought just before his bedroom door burst open.

“Otabek! You aren’t going to sleep already, are you?” Inzhu was the oldest of his three sisters at almost twelve-years-old. Aliya and Anara were twins at eight. All of them shared the same dark hair and eyes common throughout the Altin family.

“No, just thinking. Go away.”

Inzhu did not, however, go away. He’d been foolish to think she would. Instead, she walked into his bedroom like she owned it—and maybe she had while he’d been away—and picked his phone up off the nightstand.

“Who’s this?”

Remembering the image he had on the background of his phone, he moved to snatch it away, but the young girl turned quickly, pulling it out of his reach.

“She’s pretty. Is that your girlfriend?”

Oh, Yuri would love this story when he called later. “No. That’s my friend, Yuri Plisetsky.”

“What?” she exclaimed. “ _The_ Yuri Plisetsky? The Ice Tiger of Russia?”

She closely examined the picture, taken in Barcelona shortly after Otabek had saved him from his ravenous fans. Yuri had acquiesced when Otabek requested a picture wearing the set of cat ears he still had from his fan-girl photo-op, on the condition that he could wear Otabek’s sunglasses to hide his face (and shame).

Yuri did look kind of feminine in it, especially with his slight build, so Otabek wasn’t too surprised that his sister didn’t recognize him at first. “The same. Give me back my phone.”

He snatched it from her before Inzhu could turn away again, earning a pout from his sister. “Why do you have a picture of Yuri Plisetsky on your phone? Didn’t he beat you at the Grand Prix?”

“We’re friends,” he snapped. “Get out of my room.”

“Are you friends, or are you ‘friends?’” She laughed and ran away, shutting his door against the pillow he threw at her. Still, he could hear her voice carrying from the living room, “Otabek has a boyfriend!”

Oh. _God, damn it_.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Mentioned parental homophobia

Yuri yawned and fumbled for his ringing phone in his half-asleep stupor. “What is it?” he barked without even bothering to check the caller ID. “You know what time it is?”

There was a pause on the other end, then a soft, “Shit. Sorry. I forgot I’m three hours ahead of you, now.”

The sleepy haze dropped from Yuri’s head instantly and he sat up. “Otabek. Hey. I… haven’t heard from you in a few days. Is everything okay?”

Another pause caused Yuri’s stomach to drop just before Otabek confirmed, “No.”

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Already, he scrambled out of bed, looking for his pants. He wasn’t sure what he planned on doing, but he felt like he needed to do something. Not being naked seemed like a good place to start.

“No, Yuri, I’m not hurt. I just… had a sudden change in my living situation.”

Yuri frowned. “What do you mean? I thought you lived with your parents?”

“Not anymore.”

“Why?” As soon as he asked the question, Yuri knew why. In a soft voice, he asked, “What happened?”

“Inzhu outed me to my parents. They weren’t happy.”

He sighed, his heart aching for his… boyfriend? He still wasn’t sure. “How did she even find out?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Otabek sighed. “It’s done, now. I just wanted to call you before I got to the rink. I felt bad about not answering or returning your calls or texts. It’s been a long week, moving and everything.”

“Nyet, don’t worry about it. I understand.”

Yuri could hear a smile in Otabek’s voice when he asked, “So, you’re not mad at me, then?”

Despite the weight of the situation, he chuckled. “Nyet, nyet. I mean, not about the phone calls and texts. I’m furious that you woke me up at four-thirty in the morning.”

Otabek laughed and Yuri felt some of the tension leave him. “I’m sorry, my Russian Fairy. Go back to sleep.”

“Nyet, it’s fine,” he said through a yawn and smile. “I have to wake up for my flight soon anyway. You did me a favor.”

“Flight?”

“Ah, yea,” he said. “Hasetsu. One month. Nikiforov and the pig invited me, remember? You told me I should go.” He paused, then asked softly. “Do you still think I should go?”

Otabek’s voice dropped into that stern tone he adopted when he and Yuri talked about professional things, or when he was trying to protect Yuri’s best interests. “Yes, I think it would be good for you. Besides, I want you to send me pictures.” There was a pause and Yuri would swear that he could hear the older teen smile. “To cheer me up.”

Yuri nodded, his face resolved as though sending Otabek pictures of the Hasetsu scenery were the most important duty he’d ever been tasked with. “I will.”

“Good. I should head in. Long day of practice ahead of me. Text me to let me know when you make it to the hot spring.”

“I will.” He paused. “Hey, Otabek?”

“Hmm?”

“It will be okay.”

Silence echoed on the other end, then a quiet huff of a chuckle. “Thank you, Yuri. Have a safe trip.”

“Da. Well…” He frowned. “Goodbye.”

“Good morning, Yuri.”

The line clicked dead before Yuri could do something crazy, like insist that he’d change his travel plans and would get on the next flight to Almaty. Level-headed Otabek would never allow such reckless behavior. Besides, Yuri had a job to do. Otabek wanted pictures of Hasetsu.

Yuri would give him pictures of Hasetsu.


	5. Chapter Five

It had to be those two. Why couldn’t Yuuko pick Yuri up from the airport? Hell, even Mari would have been better than Victor and Yuuri.

“Yurio!” Victor called, waving frantically from the other side of the glass wall. “You made it!”

Gritting his teeth, he suppressed the urge to shout, “That’s not my name!” It wouldn’t do any good, anyways. It never did. Instead, he typed out a quick message to Otabek. _Landed in Hasetsu. Victor is already acting like a fool._

Almost immediately, he received a response. _Good. I’m glad you made it ok. Don’t forget my pictures._

Smirking, Yuri raised his phone and snapped a quick picture of Victor’s unbecoming flailing, sending it off with the caption, “I’m doomed.”

The ride to the resort was a barrage of questions Yuri didn’t want to answer. Namely:

“So, Yurio, I noticed from your Instagram that Otabek came out to Saint Petersburg for a couple weeks.” Victor flashed him a shit-eating grin in the rear-view mirror. “Did you have fun?”

“Stop being nosy, old man. I thought I was here to train.”

“What? We can’t catch up?”

Yuri grumbled and stared out the window at the passing scenery, the wind whipping his hair around his face. Every time the car stopped long enough, he would snap a picture to send to Otabek. Cheering him up was as important as any training he had to do.

And if it offered him a distraction so he didn’t have to look at Victor and Yuuri’s entwined fingers as they drove, all the better. Not that he was jealous.

Not anymore. Let the old man have his pork cutlet bowl.

Bastards.

“How much longer?” he bit out, glaring out the window at the shops. “Did it always take so long to get there? I’m tired. I want a bath.”

Yuuri chuckled and glanced back at him with a smile. “Just a little longer. I don’t think you’ve ever come directly to the resort from the airport, have you? The first time you came, you wandered around looking for Victor, right? And you went back to Russia right from Ice Castle, so…”

Yuri growled and kicked the back of the seat. “Will you shut up? I know what I did the last time I was here! I was the one who did it, idiot!”

“Yurio,” Victor said with a smirk. “Be nice.”

“That’s not my name!”

Yuri huffed as he finally settled in bed. After not-so-artfully dodging the third degree from Victor and Yuuri, he’d been stuffed full of all the pork cutlet bowls he could manage. Mari joined the losers’ renewed attempts at grilling him about Otabek—which he refused to talk about—before he finally fled to Ice Castle to visit with Yuuko and get some skating in. Mercifully, he could count on her to let him be, as long as her brats weren’t around.

After a long soak in the spring, he went back to his room and checked the time. Almost ten pm. Thanks to the glory of the internet—how did all those old geezers suffer without it—he knew that it would only be seven in Almaty. Otabek should be done with his own training by now, right? Only one way to find out.

“Yuri.”

There was something about the way Otabek answered the phone just by saying his name, or maybe it was just the way Otabek said his name—his real name—in general, that sent a shiver down his spine. “Otabek.” He doubted his own attempts at single-word seduction were nearly as effective. “Did you get the pictures?”

He chuckled on the other end. “I did, Yuri. Thank you. I was hoping you’d send me some of yourself, but the scenery is beautiful. I’ll have to visit, sometime.”

Yuri could feel his face heat up. Otabek had wanted pictures of _him_. “What kind of pictures of me?” he asked warily, before he could think to stop himself.

“Anything you want to send me. I thought at least I’d get to see some of the three of you skating, but I suppose you won’t start training until you’re settled.”

Training. Right. He felt both relieved and a little disappointed. “Ah, of course. I’ll ask Yuuko if she can take some tomorrow. Or I’m sure her obnoxious brats will be more than happy to take up-close video with frame by frame commentary,” he muttered.

Otabek laughed, light and warm—a far cry from the weight in his tone this morning. “Yuri. Be nice to your fans.”

He huffed and said nothing, letting the silence draw out between them.

Finally, Otabek spoke again. “I miss you, Yuri.”

He swallowed thickly, breath hitching at the softness of the phrase. With hot cheeks, he mumbled quietly, “I miss you, too.”

“Send me more pictures, Yuri. They helped, today.”

“I will, Otabek. Good night.”

“Good night, my Russian Fairy.”


	6. Chapter Six

Yuri hadn’t seen Victor on the ice since he joined Yuuri’s exhibition after the Grand Prix finals. Which, admittedly, he’d only managed to watch about twenty seconds of before storming off.

He’d almost forgotten how gracefully the man moved. Every movement was like the snow flurries caught in the breeze, swirling and dancing through the air until they finally settled to paint the world a bright, shining white.

“That was beautiful, Victor!” Yuuri yelled.

Yuri snapped out of his daze and turned his gaze away from the lovers as Victor pulled Yuuri into a kiss. “Disgusting. Can’t you two keep your paws off of each other for two minutes?”

Victor smiled. “Oh, Yurio—”

“That’s not my name!”

“—You must miss Otabek, don’t you?”

Yuri snarled. “Don’t try to rope me into your sick depravity! Just because you’re an old pervert doesn’t mean that Otabek and I can’t act like professionals—” _Fuck_.

The grins on their faces said it all. Yuri had let the cat out of the bag, and he wasn’t sure there was even a cat in it to begin with. He still had no idea what he and Otabek were and had no real reason to assume anything, aside from one (fantastic) kiss outside of a hotel room.

“Oh, Yurio-chan!” Victor squealed. “I’m so happy for you! You and Beka-kun make such a cute couple, too!”

“Shut up! We’re not a couple! I… I don’t think…” He shook his head clear of the confusion and narrowed his eyes. “And don’t call us that! You’re not even Japanese! Why are you talking like that?”

The mirth fell from Victor’s face and he looked completely perplexed. “Why shouldn’t I talk like that? That’s how people talk in Japan, isn’t it, Yuuri?”

The pig nodded half-heartedly. “More or less. I don’t know how Otabek would feel about you calling him ‘Beka-kun,’ but…”

“So, then why shouldn’t I talk like that?” Victor said, turning his pout once again to Yuri. “My fiancé is Japanese. I should learn to speak the language properly. Otherwise, it will just be that much harder when I move here.”

Victor’s lips kept moving, but Yuri didn’t pay attention to the words. Victor was… moving… to Japan?

He didn’t want to feel so angry, so betrayed. He was past this. He was supposed to be past this. He had moved on. Victor was with the pork cutlet bowl. Yuri had Otabek. This shouldn’t bother him.

But _shouldn’t_ and _didn’t_ were two different things.

“What do you mean you’re moving to Japan?” he screeched, cutting off whatever inane babble fell from Victor’s mouth. “When did you decide this?”

Victor blinked dumbly and Yuuri cast a sideways glance at him before whispering, “You didn’t tell him?”

“No,” Victor muttered back. “I’m certain I did.”

“You didn’t! And I can hear you!” He clenched his jaw and snarled, fists balled at his sides. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here! Stop acting like I don’t matter!”

Before Victor could say another stupid thing or Yuuri could be kind and comforting in a way Yuri didn’t want to appreciate, he scurried from the ice, moving as fast on the floor as his blades would allow without losing his already precarious balance.

Though a part of him was insulted, he was glad when he heard Yuuri tell Victor, “Let him go. He needs to blow off steam. Just leave him alone for a little bit. He’ll talk when he’s ready.”

How could Victor make such a huge decision without even mentioning it? How could he just decide to up and move so far away? Why couldn’t Yuuri move to Russia? Or better yet, why couldn’t Victor stay in Russia and Yuuri stay in Japan and they just forget each other? Did Yakov know? Wouldn’t Yakov have mentioned it, if he did? How could Victor be so selfish?

But more importantly, Yuri thought as he stared out over the water and fought back tears: Why did it bother him so much?


	7. Chapter Seven

“Did you know?” Yuri snarled into the phone.

“Know what?” Yakov snapped. “What are you bothering me with, now? Don’t you have training to do with that ingrate Nikiforov?”

“Did you know Victor is moving to Japan with Katsuki? Did—You—Know?”

There was a short pause before Yakov sighed. “He mentioned he was considering it. I didn’t know he’d made the choice. Foolish little—”

Yuri hung up the phone and nearly pitched it into the water. Instead, he tried to focus on other, less infuriating things. He forced a smile and took a selfie in front of the setting sun to send to Otabek. Only a matter of minutes passed before his phone chimed.

_That’s what I like to see._

Despite himself, he smiled.

“Hey, you okay?”

Yuri turned to face Yuuri, snarled, and turned back around. “What’s it to you, katsudon?”

Yuuri paused next to him, not looking over to him, just watching the water together. It felt calm. It felt peaceful. He almost wanted to enjoy it.

But he couldn’t forget and couldn’t forgive this loser for stealing Victor.

“He meant to tell you, you know.”

“I’m sure.”

“He did. Yurio—”

He turned with a growl. “That’s not my name! Just go away! Leave me alone!”

Yuuri sighed, but didn’t go anywhere. “You do matter to him, Yurio—Yuri. You matter to both of us. Victor never wanted to hurt you.”

“Yea?” he scoffed. “Then tell me something, piggy. If Victor cares about me so much, why is it you’re here and he’s not?”

“He just wasn’t sure if you wanted to see him.” A long pause passed between them, before Yuuri sighed again. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I know that you had, or have… feelings for—”

“Shut. Up.”

“I’m sorry that you got hurt in this, Yurio. I am.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Yuuri rub the back of his neck. “Victor has no idea, if that matters to you. If he had, I’m sure he would have talked to you at some point—”

Yuri turned an ice-cold glare to him. “I don’t need your pity, katsudon. I get it. I’m a sixteen-year-old kid. Victor is almost twelve years older than I am.” He huffed and turned to walk away. “I never had a chance. I know that. I always knew that, really. Doesn’t make it suck any less to have it so blatantly rubbed in my face how little I mattered.”

“Yurio, that’s not true—”

He turned and leveled Yuuri with a hard glare. “This is the last time I will tell you: That’s—Not—My—Name.”

Yuuri sighed and called after him, “Where are you going? Won’t you at least come back to Ice Castle and talk to Victor?”

He clenched his jaw to fight back the tears. “No.”


	8. Chapter Eight

“Yuratchka, I thought you weren’t coming home until next month?”

“Change of plans,” Yuri said, hefting his suitcase into the back of his grandfather’s car. “I’m not staying long, though.”

Nikolai hummed and gave his grandson a curious look. “Oh? Where are you off to, next, then?”

Yuri stared out the window at the people milling about the airport parking lot. “Almaty, Kazakhstan.”

* * *

Otabek yawned on the other end of the line. “Yuri. This is my punishment for waking you, last week?”

“Ah, it should only be nine your time. You’re asleep already?” He frowned as he dug through his suitcase, tossing the dirty clothes out to survey what he could bring to Kazakhstan.

“I was at the rink all day, from five this morning to seven this evening. I just laid down a half hour ago.”

Yuri frowned and felt an embarrassed flush crawl up his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’ll let you sleep.”

“Don’t be stupid. I want to talk to you. Your voice is such a nice thing to wake up to, even if it is only after a half hour.”

Now Yuri was blushing for a different reason.

“How is Hasetsu? It must be late there.”

He frowned and forcefully threw a dirty sweatshirt into the clothes hamper. “Probably. I came home.”

Otabek sounded much more alert when he asked, “Why? What happened?”

“Fucking worthless Nikiforov, selfish bastard, only thinks about himself,” he snapped.

“I… need more context, Yuri.” Otabek sounded suddenly even more tired than he had at the beginning of the conversation. Exasperated, maybe, though it was difficult to tell. His voice didn’t have many different inflections.

“Victor decided he’s going to move to Japan with the fat pig. He didn’t even mention it to me.”

“Well, if he didn’t mention it to you, how did you find out?”

Yuri clenched his fist at his side. “He was talking stupid, calling me ‘Yurio-chan’ and shit. It sounded stupid, trying to talk like a Japanese person with a Russian accent. He’s stupid. He said he needed to speak the language right if he was going to move there. Just like that. No warning.”

He scoffed. “He forgot he hadn’t told me. Figures. Victor forgets about me a lot.”

A long pause passed, then, “I’ll never forget about you, Yuri.”

His heart seized in his chest and he felt like crying. Why had he said all that? He’d basically confessed to his… romantic… partner… person that he was upset at another man moving away. A man that everyone knew he used to have a crush on.

Or still had a crush on? No. He refused.

“I want to come see you, now,” he said, his voice a little sharper than he intended.

The line stayed quiet for a long moment, before Otabek said softly, with the hint of a smile in his voice, “Yes. I’d like that, Yuri. Let me know your flight details when you book. I’ll pick you up.”


	9. Chapter Nine

Yuri rushed from the arrival gate to the baggage claim. The only luggage he brought with him was his backpack. It would be easier to hold on Otabek’s bike, stuffed to the brim though it was. Besides, what did he really need, aside from a couple changes of clothes? It was perfectly sized to be brought on the plane, but due to his skates it just had to be checked.

Stupid.

When he reached the baggage claim area, Otabek was already waiting with Yuri’s backpack slung over his shoulder. When their eyes met, Yuri’s breath hitched and his coherence fell away, just like in Barcelona.

But this time, instead of staring blankly at Yuri, Otabek smiled. And instead of swearing at him in a panic, Yuri rushed to meet him, stopping just before jumping into his arms, realizing he probably didn’t want to show too much affection in public.

“Yuri.”

He melted. “Otabek. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise. Come on. Let’s go home.”

Yuri had initially planned to rent a hotel, but when Otabek offered to board him during his stay—six glorious weeks free from Yakov’s screaming and Mila’s nagging—he’d jumped at the offer. Even if it would be “cramped in the studio,” as Otabek had warned.

“Are you hungry?” Otabek asked, handing him a helmet. “We can stop and get something. I don’t have much food, since I never have time to cook.”

“It’s fine. I can wait until later.”

Otabek nodded and climbed on his bike, Yuri following suit. “Hold on tight, Yuri.”

As though he didn’t already have every intention of doing so.

The wind rushed past him, blowing the ends of his hair around his neck. They moved too fast for him to take in any of the sights, but he didn’t mind. They’d have time for that later. Even if he could see the world around him through the blur of speed, he wouldn’t want to. Not when he could curl so snugly against Otabek’s back, his arms wrapped tightly around the older teen’s waist. He rested his cheek between Otabek’s shoulder blades and felt a soft rumble like laughter, but with the noise and the vibrations from the bike he couldn’t be sure.

To hear Otabek describe his apartment, Yuri thought he’d be walking into a complete shit-show. While it wasn’t the nicest placed he’d ever stayed, the studio was far from the claustrophobic train wreck Otabek had made it out to be. The neighborhood was decent and the floorplan was spacious for a studio.

The space held a small kitchenette, sectioned off by a marble eat-at bar. The limited counter-space had a sink, but no oven or stove top, though a small electric burner sat tucked away in the corner, on top of the miniature refrigerator. The walls surrounding the bathroom created a nook to the side where Otabek kept a small workspace. A laptop lay open on the desk, surrounded by CDs, headphones, and a few scribbled notes.

The king-size bed under the window, against the far back wall, took up the bulk of the room. Otabek slept in style, Yuri had to give him that. Black wood with a thick mattress, covered by a plush comforter and piles of soft-looking pillows. Just looking at it made Yuri want to crawl in and never return.

Which, he decided, dropping his bag on the floor and shrugging out of his hoodie, he would happily do right now.


	10. Chapter Ten

Yuri awoke to fingers carding gently through his hair. It took him a moment to realize he’d curled up and rested his head on Otabek’s thigh as he’d slept. Currently, Otabek sat comfortably against a mountain of pillows, sipping a mug of something that smelled suspiciously like cocoa, and reading something on the tablet propped on his other leg.

“I didn’t realize you were so tired.” There was a hint of amusement in Otabek’s voice as he spoke.

“How long was I out?” Yuri yawned and stretched his legs out, but made no other movement away from the gentle caress currently massaging his scalp.

“A couple hours. You pretty much collapsed into bed as soon as you came in.” He smirked. “It was cute.”

Yuri huffed and rolled over onto his back, keeping his head in Otabek’s lap. He reached up and trailed his fingertips along a strong jaw, delighting when Otabek hummed and leaned into the touch. “Take me to a nightclub.”

“No. You’re still too young.”

“Bah! Old man.”

Otabek didn’t even so much as bristle at the comment. Instead, he powered off his tablet and set it next to the cocoa on the table. “Are you hungry? It’s about dinner time.”

“Starving. I haven’t eaten since I left Saint Petersburg.”

To Yuri’s great disappointment, Otabek eased Yuri’s head off his leg and stood. “Good. Get dressed. There’s a diner not far from here. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall place, but it’s quiet and the food is good.”

Yuri rolled out of the warm comfort of the bed and picked his shirt up off the floor where he’d thrown it. As he turned to retrieve his sweatshirt, he caught a glimpse of Otabek tugging a black t-shirt down over his deceptively toned abs. Yuri knew first hand that skaters had to be lean, but Otabek’s particularly strong physique never ceased to catch him off guard in the best way.

He could feel his cheeks heating up just thinking about it.

_Hmph. Take that, Nikiforov. My boyfriend’s hotter than you’ll ever be._

Wait. Did Yuri just think of Otabek as his boyfriend? Was that even right? The two still hadn’t spoken about it and hadn’t kissed since that night at the hotel.

“Yuri? Are you okay? You coming?”

Otabek’s voice pulled him out of his stupor. “Da. Sorry. Just thinking.”

Dark eyes regarded him warily. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Yuri snapped, blushing. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Otabek listened intently while Yuri ranted about his short visit to Hasetsu.

“I’ve known Victor for years,” Yuri snapped. “I can’t believe he didn’t even bother to tell me!”

“I’m sure he meant to,” Otabek said, pushing his empty plate to the side. “He’s just oblivious. He thinks about doing something, gets distracted, then thinks he did it. I’m sure he didn’t intentionally hide anything from you.”

Yrui sulked in his seat.

“Yuri.”

He glanced up to Otabek’s soft, concerned eyes. “Victor is your friend. He must feel horrible that he upset you like this.”

Yuri huffed. “Good.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

Yuri tripped on the ice. Again.

Growling, he slammed a palm down on the ground, his fist clenching as he fought back frustrated tears. Why couldn’t he land that jump? He’d managed it plenty of times before.

Victor Nikiforov could land it in his sleep…

“Yuri,” Otabek said, skating up to him and offering a hand. “You’re too tense. Don’t over think.”

“Yea, yea, I know,” he muttered, letting the older boy pull him back to his feet. “It’s just annoying. I’ve landed it plenty of times before. I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time, now.”

Otabek frowned. “Maybe it’s the rink. You’re not used to it.”

“I’ve skated at plenty of new rinks, before,” he snapped. Seeing the quick flash of hurt on Otabek’s face, he cast his eyes down. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, today. Victor spent weeks teaching me that. I’d gotten it down perfectly, I thought—”

“Victor.” Otabek’s voice sounded cold and when Yuri looked back to him, his face was hard.

Again, Yuri felt ashamed of himself. He’d been in Kazakhstan for three weeks, now. His visit was half gone and the two still hadn’t spoken about their relationship, whatever it was. Though they shared a bed, and Yuri awoke most mornings to Otabek’s heavy arm draped over his waist, they hadn’t even so much as shared a kiss on the cheek.

Which, Yuri surmised, was at least partially his fault. He still felt so angry at Victor. And he never shut up about it. Why would Otabek be interested in romance when Yuri’s head was clearly so far away?

“Sorry,” Yuri muttered. “We worked together for years under Yakov. It’s difficult to separate him from the sport.”

Otabek hummed and nodded, though he didn’t look any less displeased that, once again, Yuri’s thoughts were preoccupied by the man.

Yuri clenched his jaw and stared up into Otabek’s eyes, hopefully showing the fiery soldier’s determination Otabek had mentioned seeing last year in Barcelona. “I can do this! I know I can! I’m a good skater, with or without Old Man Nikiforov!”

“Hmm.” Otabek watched him for a moment, before smiling faintly. “You are, Yuri. I think you just need some motivation.”

A lump formed in Yuri’s throat as Otabek’s hand cupped his waist, pulling him closer. Just feeling their shared body heat had Yuri’s legs shaking.

“Yuri, I want to kiss you.”

“W-well, then what are you waiting for?” he whimpered, already leaning up in preparation.

Otabek leaned down, brushing his lips against the shell of Yuri’s ear as he said, “I’m waiting for you to land that jump.”

_Son of a bitch_. How was he expected to land the jump now, when he could barely even stand on his weak knees after Otabek pulled away?

But looking up into those dark eyes, still feeling the residual heat between them, Yuri hardened his face and nodded. “Da.”

Yuri wanted to land that jump. He wanted nothing more than to prove to Otabek, and to himself, that he could do it. He wanted to earn that kiss. But attempt after attempt failed, until long after night had fallen and they were the only two left.

“It’s okay, Yuri,” Otabek said softly, placing a hand on Yuri’s shoulder as he knelt on the ground.

“It’s not okay! I used to be able to land that jump with my eyes closed! I did it fine back in Russia! You were there! You saw it!” He clenched his jaw and scrubbed his tears away with the back of his hand. “You know I can do it. I know I can do it. So why can’t I do it?”

“It’s okay. Everyone has a bad day. Come on, Yuri,” Otabek urged, trying to tug him to his feet. “The rink is closing soon. We have to go.”

“No! I’m not leaving until I land that jump!” His eyes flashed fiercely. “I’m not leaving without my kiss!”

Otabek pulled back, shocked. Then he smiled. “Yuri,” he said softly. “My Russian Fairy.”

Yuri’s breath caught as Otabek tilted his chin up and kissed him. Their lips moved together, soft and slow, with just a hint of Otabek’s tongue brushing against Yuri’s lower lip before pulling away.

“There. You owe me a jump. Tomorrow. For now, let’s go home, yea?”

Dazed and heart racing, Yuri nodded vaguely as he allowed Otabek to pull him to his feet. “Da. Tomorrow.”


	12. Chapter Twelve

“Is that… me on your phone?” Yuri asked, glancing over Otabek’s shoulder as they lounged on the bed.

Otabek quickly turned the screen off, pocketing the device. For the first time, Yuri noticed a warm blush coloring his cheeks. “Maybe.”

Yuri smiled and pulled out his own phone, handing it to Otabek to show him his own background. In Barcelona, the two of them had taken a few selfies at the restaurant before they’d been joined—interrupted—by the others. This one featured Yuri snuggled happily under Otabek’s arm.

Otabek smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to Yuri’s temple.

Two kisses, he thought proudly. It only took him four weeks.

“Inzhu thought you were a girl when she saw my phone,” he chided softly. “She asked me if you were my girlfriend.”

“What? I am not a girl!”

Otabek laughed and tugged Yuri into a warm hug, effectively silencing him with his own nerves. “I am well aware you’re not a girl, Yuri. Calm down.”

Yuri pouted, but cuddled back against Otabek’s chest, feeling rather content in his arms. Then he frowned. “Wait. Inzhu? She outed you, didn’t she?”

He could feel Otabek tense under him. “Yes.”

It took a moment, before Yuri’s jaw clenched and he curled in on himself, even as Otabek’s arms tightened around him to keep him in place. “It’s because of me. She saw my picture on your phone, didn’t she? She told your parents we were…” His words trailed off, partially because he couldn’t bear to finish the sentence and partially because he still wasn’t sure what they were.

“It doesn’t matter, now. It’s done.”

“It does matter! You lost… everything. Your family. Because of me.” He frowned. “It’s my fault you got kicked out of your home.”

Otabek grunted and shook his head, burying his face against the back of Yuri’s neck. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t make them throw me out. They chose to do that. If they didn’t want to know, they shouldn’t have asked.”

Yuri fidgeted, but Otabek kept a firm grip. “You could have lied to them. Why didn’t you lie?” Finally, he wiggled free of the strong arms holding him back and turned to face the other boy. “Why didn’t you tell them we were just friends, that it was just a stupid picture?”

He frowned as he looked at Yuri’s frantic face. “Because I didn’t want to lie. Lying to them would imply that I’m ashamed.” He reached up and cupped Yuri’s cheek. “I am not ashamed of you, Yuri.”

The young blond didn’t know how to respond to that. His chest felt tight and his eyes stung with tears. “You idiot,” he whimpered, collapsing against Otabek and wrapping his arms tightly around his boyfriend’s—yes, he thought, definitely boyfriend—neck. “You fucking stupid, wonderful idiot.”

Otabek chuckled and wrapped his arms around Yuri’s waist, holding him close. He smiled softly against the boy’s neck, nuzzling his nose into soft long hair. “We should get to sleep, Yuri.”

“Da.” Yuri pulled away and pressed a chaste peck to Otabek’s lips—the first time Yuri had ever made the first move—earning a surprised hum from the Hero of Kazakhstan. _Yuri’s_ hero. “Good night, Beka.”

Otabek blinked in confusion for a moment as Yuri pulled away, before relaxing into a contented smile. He settled under the covers behind Yuri, wrapping his arms tightly around Yuri’s waist. “Good night, Yuri.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me a couple days to get more of this posted. I've had some personal issues going on and the internet was kind of low on the priorities list. But, it's worth noting that this story is finished, just not posted. So, don't worry about me dropping it if you're enjoying it.
> 
> Also, the last chapter received a comment regarding Otabek and Yuri talking about what happened in regards to Otabek being outed and subsequently ousted by his family. I'm sorry I don't really go into it much in this story. I meant to, but it started taking on a life of it's own and I really want to keep _this_ story's focus on Yuri. I'm in the process of fleshing Otabek's story out and will post it when I'm done. Give me time. Again, sorry that it really got glossed over in this story. It was meant to be a bigger plot point than it ended up being.

By the last day of his trip, Yuri had finally been able to stop counting kisses. He and Otabek still hadn’t discussed what their relationship actually was, but Yuri was content to think of the older skater as his boyfriend. Everything seemed to be going great.

So why could he not for the life of him shut up about goddamn Victor Nikiforov?

“I just can’t believe that old bastard! He just wants to lounge around in a hot spring all day and eat katsudon.”

Otabek snorted a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Isn’t that your nickname for Katsuki? ‘Katsudon?’”

Yuri felt his face heat up crimson. “That’s not what I—”

“I’m sure Victor does plan to spend some time _eating katsudon_.”

“Stop being gross! I don’t want to think about that!” He pulled a face and made a show of pushing his plate away from him across the bar. “Makes me lose my appetite.”

Otabek rolled his eyes, but smirked—he’d been smiling a lot more often, Yuri noticed. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I don’t want to think about that old man and that pig doing gross things!”

“No,” Otabek chuckled. “Why does it matter so much that Victor is moving to Japan? He and Katsuki are getting married. It makes sense that they would want to live in the same country.”

Yuri pouted. He couldn’t say, again, that he was upset over Victor not telling him. He’d long since exhausted that line of reasoning and he doubted Otabek would be sympathetic to him reopening the wound. “Why can’t the pig move to Russia? Our rink is better, anyway.”

Otabek raised his eyebrows. “Yea? Two men getting married and moving to Russia. What could possibly go wrong, there?”

Yuri huffed. Granted, Russia wasn’t the most supportive country when it came to homosexual relationships, but they still existed. Just very, very carefully and quietly. “Fine,” he sighed. “I see your point. Still. I don’t understand why Victor has to move his home rink. It’s strange without him there. I’ve been training alongside him for years.”

Otabek hummed and pushed his own plate away. “You’ll miss him.”

“Yes,” he answered without thinking.

“You’re in love with him,” Otabek said softly, sadly.

Yuri’s jaw clenched. “N-no!” Even he could hear the lie in his voice.

Otabek sighed and pushed away from the bar, gathering the plates to wash.

“Beka, I—”

“I had hoped,” Otabek said, frowning down as he scraped the last dregs of last night’s leftover kurrdak into the trash. “I thought, maybe since Nikiforov and Katsuki got together, that you could—” His voice caught. “That maybe I could show you how… wasted your attention on him was. I thought I could show you that there are people who care about you—who want to care about you—the way you deserve to be cared about.”

He scowled as he scrubbed the plate—the most aggressive dish-washing Yuri had ever been witness to.

“Not as a competitor or a protégé, or however Victor saw you,” Otabek went on. “Not as someone to share a rink with, but someone to share a life—” His voice caught again and this time he didn’t continue.

“Beka…”

Otabek took a deep breath, releasing it in a long sigh. When he spoke again, his voice held that stern authority that Yuri had come to know so well through their shared training. “You don’t know what you want, Yuri. I think you should figure that out, before you make any more decisions.”

“Nyet! That’s not true! I—”

“It is true.” He turned to face Yuri, eyes glassy. “You can’t be with me while you still have feelings for Victor. It’s not fair.”

“Otabek—”

“Come on,” Otabek said, grabbing his jacket and helmet. “We should get you to the airport.”


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Otabek had known, when he’d first seen Yuri walk through the arrival gate, that saying goodbye would be difficult. He just never imagined it would be so hard for this particular reason.

He’d been stupid to think that he could open Yuri’s eyes so easily. The boy’s crush on Nikiforov was the stuff of legend in their little skating community. No one ever spoke of it outright, but only in quiet, gossipy whispers when too much alcohol had flooded their good judgment. JJ and Christophe had a running bet to see if Victor would ever realize the boy’s true feelings.

If something could unite JJ with another human being, it had to be something of intensity.

Still, after Victor and Katsuki got engaged in Spain, Otabek thought Yuri would finally let it go.

Foolish dreams.

When they pulled up to the airport, Otabek made no move to accompany Yuri inside. But, the heartbroken look on the boy’s face quickly changed his decision. Even as upset as he was, Otabek couldn’t bring himself to be so cruel.

“Go check in,” he told Yuri. “I’ll go park and meet you inside.”

“Da.” Yuri hesitantly removed his helmet, setting it on the back.

Otabek could sense his concern. “I will meet you inside. I won’t leave without saying goodbye. I promise.”

That seemed to quell at least some of Yuri’s nerves and he nodded, pausing briefly before turning to go inside.

The two didn’t speak as they made their way through the security line. Nor did Otabek have anything to say when Yuri quietly ducked into a small shop to buy a snack for the plane. And when they reached the gate and had to sit for an hour, they did that in silence, too.

“Text me when you get home,” Otabek said as they called for boarding.

“I will.” With a nod, Otabek turned to leave, but Yuri stopped him with a timid, “Otabek?”

He glanced over his shoulder at the younger boy.

“I—I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear and it didn’t help. Still, he appreciated the effort. “Thank you, Yuri.”

Otabek didn’t want to go home right away. He’d have to change the bedsheets, which probably still smelled like Yuri’s shampoo. And, though he couldn’t be certain, knowing how messy Yuri was, he suspected he’d find a lone sock or undershirt kicked under the bed. He didn’t want to—couldn’t—deal with that—those little pieces of him—right now.

So, instead, he wandered around the city wishing he were back in Spain. He’d had much more fun in Spain, with Yuri tagging along like they belonged together. And in Spain, he was old enough to get drunk.

And he really wanted to get drunk.

Instead, he went to the rink and spent a few hours failing miserably in his distraction. It wasn’t enough to be happier; he even skated better when he had Yuri in his corner.

Tired and frustrated, he finally decided to just go home. He wasted no time in stripping the sheets off the bed and piling them in the hamper to take to the laundromat in the morning. Thankfully, it didn’t appear that Yuri left anything behind to serve as a reminder other than his scent, which still lingered on his pillow even after Otabek changed the sheets.

He lay in bed, Yuri’s pillow tossed down to the floor because he just couldn’t bear it right now, when his phone chimed.

_I’m home. Please call me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Victor doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear._

He gritted his teeth. _Fucking Nikiforov_. Even apologizing, Yuri couldn’t help but bring him up. With a growl, he pitched the phone across the room, hearing it land somewhere near the bathroom. Then he rolled onto his side, buried his face in the pillow, and cried.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Yuri hadn’t heard from Otabek in weeks. The first competitions of the season were beginning soon and the only hint Yuri had that the man was even still alive was his Instagram feed. He never replied to Yuri’s comments, but at least he was still around. Kind of.

Being back on his home rink helped his confidence, but his preoccupation with his awful love life left him suffering slightly.

Nikolai startled when his grandson came stomping into the house after another miserable practice. “Yuratchka! What’s wrong? You’ve been out of sorts since you got back from Almaty.”

“Nothing, grandpa,” he huffed, collapsing exhausted on the sofa. “Don’t worry about it.”

The old man smiled and offered a plate to the boy. “Here. I made pork cutlet pirozhki. Why don’t you have one and tell me what’s on your mind, hmm?”

Yuri accepted the food graciously, though to be honest he wasn’t feeling very hungry. He only took a few small bites before sighing and setting it back on the plate.

“Boy trouble?” Nikolai asked.

Panic shot through his body and Yuri scrambled upright on the sofa. “What? What are you talking about?” His eyes went wide and his heart threatened to slam right out of his chest. “I don’t—I’m not—There’s no boys—”

Nikolai chuckled softly. “Relax, relax, Yuratchka! I know about you and that boy from Kazakhstan. What was his name? Otto? Obek?”

“Otabek.”

“Yes!” His grandfather grinned. “That’s the boy! You two seemed very happy, while he was here. He’s the one you went to visit, da?”

Yuri huffed as his face flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re—” He wanted to say “just friends,” but couldn’t. The memory of his conversation with Otabek rang in his ears. _I am not ashamed of you, Yuri._

His grandfather smiled knowingly. “Oh, Yuratchka. You don’t have to hide anything from me. I know you too well. I still love you, no matter who you are interested in. You’re my grandson. I just want you to be happy.”

Yuri could feel tears welling in his eyes.

“Honestly, I’m just glad you moved on from that Victor. He was much too old for you. It’s much better that you’ve found someone closer to your own age.”

And then they spilled. Yuri sobbed and launched himself at his grandfather, throwing his arms around the old man’s neck.

“Ah! Yuri, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“Grandpa, I messed up! I messed up so bad and I don’t know how I can fix it.”

Nikolai frowned and returned his grandson’s hug. “Easy there, Yuratchka. Calm down. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened. I’m sure we can fix it.”

So, Yuri pulled away, scrubbed his eyes on his sleeve, and proceeded to tell his grandfather the whole story of his tangled love life. Everything, from his hope of eventually hooking Victor, to Yuuri Katsuki beating him to it. From first seeing Otabek in a hotel, to last seeing him in an airport. He spilled his guts and Nikolai listened patiently.

When everything was out, his grandfather sighed. “Well, the first thing you need to do is figure out what you want. Beka was right about that. It’s not fair to him if you still have feelings for Victor.”

“I know. And I’ve been thinking about it.”

Nikolai nodded. “And? What is it you want, Yuratchka?”

Yuri looked up at his grandfather with hard eyes.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Yuri arrived in Japan muttering under his breath. He didn’t know what was so important that Victor had to have everyone meet up at the Yu-topia Katsuki resort so close to the start of the season, but he knew everyone would be there. Victor had rented the entire place out for everyone to stay. Even JJ and his fiancée, Isabella, would be there.

Even Otabek would be there, though Victor had mentioned it took a bit of convincing. He wouldn’t tell Yuri what he’d convinced Otabek for, but he would be there. That much was confirmed.

Yuri arrived a couple days before everyone else was scheduled to get in.

There was something he needed to do.

“Yurio!” Victor rushed up and wrapped the boy in a hug as soon as Yuri walked out of the airport. “There you are! You made it!”

“Let go of me, old man!” Yuri struggled away from Victor’s grip, already seething mere minutes after arrival.

Victor let him go and smiled. “I have to admit, I’m surprised you asked for me to pick you up. And alone. You said you had something you needed to talk to me about?”

What an understatement. “Not out here in public. Let’s go somewhere else. With less people.” This was going to be awkward enough without an audience of strangers eavesdropping.

“How about Ice Castle? We can get in some skating before heading home.”

“Ice Castle? Are you insane? With Yuuko’s sneaking brats around that place is the opposite of private!”

Victor chuckled. “The beach then. Come on, it’s usually deserted around this time.”

The silence in the car weighed heavily on Yuri as they drove. Victor, of course, seemed as nonplussed as ever. Why shouldn’t he be? He had always been too oblivious to what was going on with anyone other than himself.

Himself and Yuuri Katsuki.

“So?” Victor asked as they watched the water lap at the shoreline. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“I don’t want you anymore,” Yuri snapped, deciding there wasn’t a way to say any of this that wouldn’t be awkward and humiliating for him.

Victor frowned. “Don’t want me? What do you mean?”

“I mean, you washed up old has-been, I don’t want you anymore.” He scoffed and scowled out over the nearly still water. The sun reflected brightly off the top, making every subtle movement shimmer. “And you—pfft. You were always too oblivious to realize I wanted you to begin with.”

Victor blinked dumbly, before a small blush tinged his cheeks. “Ah, yes. That. I realized. I just thought it would pass.”

Yuri felt his tension down to his bones. _He’d known? He’d known all this time and he still—_

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yuri growled. “You let me go on, years, making a fool of myself! You could have at least told me I didn’t have a chance!”

“I’m sorry, Yurio. I didn’t realize it was that bad. I thought it was just a little crush. I thought it would pass. I didn’t think you made a fool out of yourself.”

“Everyone knew!” He turned and snarled at Victor, baring his teeth like any good tiger should. “I was a laughing stock, but I thought—I thought that eventually I would show them all. That I could impress you enough that you’d want me. But I was stupid.” His aggression deflated. “It was stupid.”

Victor hummed as he considered this information. “Is that why you got so upset when I took last season off? When you found out I was moving to Japan?”

He huffed, crossing his arms and holding a glare. “Don’t be so full of yourself. I didn’t think Katsuki was a threat until after the Onsen on Ice competition. And I wasn’t upset that you’re moving to Japan.”

He gritted his teeth and turned away from Victor’s imploring, if confused, gaze. “It’s because you always forget me. You forgot about the promise you made to me to choreograph my senior debut. And you didn’t tell me you were moving to Japan.” He clenched his fists as tears dripped down his cheeks. “I looked up to you! I loved you! And you didn’t care about me at all!”

Victor gripped the back of Yuri’s neck and pulled the crying boy into a tight hug. “That’s not true, Yuri. Of course, I cared about you. I still care about you. Not in the way you may have wanted, but I do. You’re my friend, Yuri. I could never forget you.”

Yuri sniffed. “Then why do you never remember what you say to me?”

“I guess I’m just a forgetful person, Yuri. I’m sorry. It probably doesn’t help, but I forget about telling things to everyone. Even Yuuri.” Victor chuckled softly. “In fact, we got in a bit of a fight before you got here because I forgot to mention I’d planned this gathering. I rented out the inn and everything, but completely forgot to mention it.”

“Really?” Yuri pulled away and looked up to Victor’s amused face.

“Yea,” he replied sheepishly.

Yuri huffed and dried his eyes. “That does make me feel better, actually. Also, you’re an asshole. Who doesn’t tell their fiancé they’re planning such a huge party, idiot?”

Victor laughed. “Come on, Yurio. Let’s go.”


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Otabek parked his rented bike inside the gate and stared up at the building. Banners hung written in Kanji, but he couldn’t read them. He assumed this was the place, though. Aside from the banners, balloons and streamers hung from the entry gate, illuminated by the paper lanterns. The place undoubtedly looked ready for some kind of party.

Besides, it was the only onsen in the town.

As he approached, he could already hear the sounds of people talking inside. He recognized Christophe Giacometti’s voice right away, saying something raunchy enough to make someone screech in horror. If he wasn’t mistaken, he thought the yelp came from Katsuki’s friend, Phichit Chulanont.

A familiar, disgusted, Russian accent caught his ears, shouting, “Stop being so disgusting! And put your damned pants back on!”

Otabek stopped. This shouldn’t be so hard. He’d already known Yuri would be there. It was part of the reason he came, to catch even just a passing glance of him in the flesh. He felt like a stalker with the way he went over and over Yuri’s Instagram feed.

He hovered just outside the door, clutching his backpack strap in one hand. Could he even do this? After the way they’d left things, could he face Yuri, right now?

Would Yuri even want to see him? After the first few weeks of Otabek ignoring his messages, Yuri had just stopped trying. He hadn’t even made an attempt at contact—not even a like on Instagram—in two weeks.

Maybe Yuri had made his choice. Maybe he’d decided he couldn’t let go of his feelings for Victor. Or maybe he was just so pissed off that he didn’t want anything to do with Otabek, anymore. It seemed unlikely, but he didn’t put anything past Yuri’s infamous temper.

Could he really go in there and face his ex—if he could even be called as such, considering the brevity of their relationship—if Yuri decided he didn’t want him?

He almost turned away. Just to go for a walk to psych himself up before coming back; maybe give the festivities a chance to die down and give Yuri a chance to go to sleep so he could put off the awkward reunion until morning.

Unfortunately, drunken Victor would have none of it.

“Otabek!” the older skater shouted, stumbling out the door wearing some sort of silky robe, cinched at the waist and hanging half open. “You made it!”

“Victor!” Katsuki rushed outside, much soberer than his fiancé, and gave Otabek a sympathetic look. “Come back inside, Victor! Hey, Otabek. Sorry. Victor’s had a little too much to drink.”

“Nonsense!” Victor rushed forward, wrapping an arm around Otabek’s shoulders and making him tense. “Come inside! Join the party! You’re the last one here! We’ve been waiting!”

Otabek clenched his jaw and took a deep breath as Victor led him through the entry. It was a nice place, at least. And the front hall was empty, so at least he had a few more seconds to attempt to calm his nerves before Victor led him to the party room.

It looked as though everyone that _could_ be drunk _was_ drunk. Chris and JJ had clearly enjoyed the spirits, Isabella looked just a hair tipsy as she hung off JJ’s arm, and even Phichit had a tell-tale flush to his cheeks. A few others sat around them; he recognized Katsuki’s sister from photos, though he couldn’t remember her name—she’d clearly been drinking as well, the girl from Ice Castle (Yuri had said her name was Yuuko?) and who he assumed to be her husband giggled at everyone else’s antics, and a young boy who couldn’t be a day over eighteen with blond and red hair sat wide-eyed watching the group.

Then there was Yuri, leaning against a wall and eating out of a small bowl. He looked like a vision with his hair tied up and a black robe similar to the ones Victor and Katsuki wore wrapped tightly around his frame.

“Look everyone!” Victor shouted to the hoard of skaters, pulling everyone’s attention. “Otabek is here!”

Yuri’s face snapped up and the two locked eyes. The bowl he held fell from his hands with a clatter, spilling rice and pork all over the floor. And then he bolted, leaving the group confused and Otabek wishing he’d never agreed to come.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Yuri felt on the verge of hyperventilating as he buried his face in his pillow. He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t face Otabek. Not after what happened. Not after how badly Yuri had hurt him.

Someone knocked at the door and he barked, “Go away!”

“Yurio?” The pig. Of course. “Are you okay?”

“What do you want, katsudon?”

He felt the bed dip under Yuuri’s weight and instinctively edged away.

“I just want to check on you. You rushed out of there pretty quick,” Yuuri chuckled softly, though even Yuri could tell there was no heart in it.

“I’m fine. Just tired. Go away.”

“I know that—”

“You don’t know anything, pig!” Yuri snapped, turning to level Yuuri with a sharp glare.

“I know that something must have happened between you and Otabek for you to react the way you did, and I’m betting it’s not good.”

Yuri grumbled and went back to hiding in his pillow. “Go away, pig.”

He tensed as Yuuri’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with the two of you, but Otabek looked crushed when you ran off. He cares about you, Yuri. You should talk to him, while the two of you are here. Once the season officially starts, you won’t get many more chances until it’s over.”

He knew that, of course. And he had every intention of talking to Otabek and making things right. Or, as right as they could be, at this point.

But not tonight.

Yuri grumbled and shrugged Yuuri’s hand away. “I don’t need advice from you, loser. Go away. I won’t tell you again.”

“Come on, Yurio,” Yuuri whined. “Just go talk to him—”

“No!” He turned and snarled. What wasn’t this fat pig understanding? How could anyone be so stupid? He frowned and sunk back down. “There are too many people here. It’s no one’s business. Especially not yours, katsudon.”

“I can send him in here, if you want—”

“I want you to get out of my room!” Finally, he reached out and shoved Yuuri off the bed, the man landing with a dull thud. “I will handle it when I’m ready and until then mind your own fucking business!”

He expected some kind of anger from Yuuri, but the fat pig just looked at him with sympathy. Somehow, that was worse.

“You know, Victor and I are both here for you, if you need to talk.”

“Duly noted,” he grumbled, turning his back to Yuuri in a declaration of finality. “Now leave.”

He waited until after he heard the door slide shut to let the tears fall.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Otabek was gone when Yuri woke up the next morning, which gave him a lot more relief than he was willing to admit.

He was almost certain Otabek went to Ice Castle to train, which had been his own routine for the last few days he’d been in Hasetsu. So, when he elected instead to go out and watch the water, Christophe would have none of it.

“You’re only delaying the inevitable, you know,” the exhibitionist said, coming to rest against the fence next to him, wearing little more than a pair of black panties after coming in from the shoreline.

“What are you talking about?” he snapped, refusing to look at him, lest he see something he really didn’t need to.

“This thing with you and Otabek.”

He gritted his teeth and hunched his shoulders. Did that fat pig tell everybody? “I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, hoping to play it off.

“Oh, don’t act coy with me, little boy.” Chris chuckled. “I know sexual tension when I see it. I am, after all, an expert.”

Yuri growled. “What do you know, old man? Why is it any of your business? Go to hell!”

Chris laughed again. “Whatever happened between you two, you’re going to have to deal with it. We’re all going out to dinner together tonight, after all. You’ll have to see him, then.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” Chris said, winking. “Maybe in a few years.”

Yuri let out a loud shout of frustration before turning and stalking away. He’d go back and soak in the hot spring to relax before dinner this evening.

“Yuri!” JJ greeted, grinning smugly with Isabella curled next to him in the spring. “What are you doing here? I would have thought you’d be skating with Otabek and the lovebirds down at—Hey, where are you going?”

There were too many reasons for Yuri to count as to why he didn’t want to get anywhere near those two in the bath.

Maybe there were some leftovers in the kitchen he could snag—

Phichit and the kid, Minami, looked up from their lunchtime selfie as he walked in.

“Oh, Yurio,” Phichit greeted with a smile. “Hey! Come take a picture with us!”

“I don’t feel like it,” he grumbled, scouring the fridge for last night’s leftovers.

Behind him, he could hear Phichit whisper, “Don’t mind him. He’s just having boy troubles.”

“Oh?” Minami whispered back. “With Otabek, right? Is that why he ran out last night?”

“Probably.”

With a frustrated growl, Yuri turned and screamed, “Why does everyone have to stick their noses into my business? Fuck off and stay out of it!”

As he stalked from the room, Phichit and Minami exchanged a glance.

Thank God Yuuko, Takeshi, and Mari weren’t around. He wasn’t sure if he could handle one more person’s unwanted commentary on his disastrous love life. If anyone else tried to interfere, he’d personally see to it that it was the last thing they ever did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I am well aware that this chapter adds nothing at all to the plot, but I just really loved the idea of everyone having realized there was something between Yuri and Otabek and teasing Yuri about it. So, I fully admit this is nothing more than a filler chapter written for my own amusement. Sorry, not sorry! ;-)


	20. Chapter Twenty

Yuri fidgeted in the seat next to Otabek. Of course, not one person interfered—the entire group banded together to make sure the two had to sit together through the entire restaurant dinner. As much as Yuri had wanted to storm out when he saw a place card with his name on it right next to Otabek’s seat, the last thing he wanted was to make a scene at such a nice restaurant.

No doubt, some camera-happy local would see it and the news would have a field day with the Russian Punk. Yakov would have a fit. Better to just deal with it.

“Yuri,” Otabek greeted him as he sat.

Yuri nodded, unable to force himself to make eye contact. “Otabek.”

Throughout the meal, he could feel Otabek watching him from the corner of his eye. He was sure Otabek was trying to gauge his reaction to spending time with Victor and Yuuri. After the way he’d humiliated himself to get closure with his stupid crush, he’d better be passing whatever stupid test Otabek was giving him.

More than once, Otabek nudged Yuri’s elbow with his own, but as far as Yuri could tell it was an accident. Still being this close to him after everything, Yuri felt nervous.

“Yurio,” Phichit said, nudging him from the other side. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

Yuri glared. “I’m not hungry,” he snapped.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Otabek’s jaw tense and the older teen pushed his own meal around on his plate.

It was torture. All of it, pure torture. He didn’t know when Chris and JJ became such good friends, but their occasional glances his way left him feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t really know Phichit or Minami well enough to engage in conversation with them, nor did he particularly feel like getting to know them. Anyone else was seated too far away from him to really talk to and the last thing he wanted to do was try to talk across the round table at those disgusting lovebirds.

Even if he had the nerve to speak to Otabek, he didn’t know what he could possibly say. So, he quietly seethed in his seat, praying this hell would end quickly.

Finally, just after the check arrived, Victor stood up and cleared his throat. “So, I suppose you’re all wondering why we asked you to come.”

Yuri pouted while the rest of the table murmured in response.

“Yuuri and I… are getting married!”

The new was met with resounding silence.

JJ snorted a laugh. “Yea, and? Didn’t you already mention that last year?”

Victor smirked and shot him a dirty look. “Ah, yes, but sadly, Yuuri did not bring me a gold medal to kiss.”

“Victor,” Yuuri whined, blushing and sinking down in his seat.

“And I am tired of waiting! So, we are going to get married! Tomorrow! And we want all of you to be there!”

Cheers erupted from the table, but all Yuri heard was a quiet din in the back of his head. He slammed his palms on the table as he stood, pulling everyone’s attention to him.

“You idiots,” he snarled, face down.

Beside him, Otabek said in a soft, but warning tone, “Yuri.”

Ignoring his would-have-been partner, he cast a glare up to Victor and Yuuri, both looking confused. “It’s about damned time! I can’t believe you made me come all the way to Japan and suffer through your disgusting lovey-dovey bullshit just for something we already knew! We’ve all been putting up with your gross public displays for a year! It’s about time you two get it over with and put us all out of our misery!”

JJ, ever with the inappropriate attitude, was the first to laugh. “The kid has a point! You two have been dragging us through this since the Grand Prix last year! It’s about time you finally put your money where your mouth is!”

Christophe smirked and raised his glass. “Well, I for one don’t think I will ever get sick of your gross public displays. Congratulations.”

Once again, the table cheered and congratulated the two as Yuri sat back in his seat and tried to ignore the way Otabek’s eyes bored into the side of his head. Instead, he caught Victor’s eye, who smiled and raised his glass.

Yuri nodded back.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

The group returned to the onsen for dessert and more congratulations. Alcohol was strictly forbidden, due to everything that would be happening tomorrow—a merciful decision, considering how Christophe tended to lose his clothes whenever drinks were involved.

After politely eating a small dessert cup, Yuri needed to get some air. As he left, he caught Otabek’s eye and held it for a moment, hoping he’d take the hint and follow.

Always a smart one, that Otabek.

“Yuri.”

Taking a deep breath, Yuri glanced up from his seat on the outside stair. “Otabek.”

When he took a seat next to Yuri, the proximity was almost too much for the younger boy to handle. It took all his resolve not to crumble into a mess of tears.

“That was some congratulations you gave at dinner.” When he dared to glance over, Otabek smirked.

“Tch. I can’t believe they made such a big deal out of it.” He rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands, gazing up at the cloudless night sky. “Having everyone come out here like that, like it was some big secret. The least they could have done was told us. Losers. Can never just do things simply.”

Otabek chuckled. “Ah, well, not everyone didn’t know.”

Yuri cast a confused look his way. “What do you mean?”

“When Victor invited me, I almost said no. The only reason I agreed was because he said he and Katsuki were getting married.” He clenched his jaw and looked away. “After what happened between us, I wanted to see you, to see if—” He sighed. “I’m sorry, about what happened. I shouldn’t have—”

“Nyet! No, Beka, I’m sorry,” he rushed, turning to face the older boy. “You were right. It wasn’t fair to you that I was still walking around with this… thing… about Victor. I would have been upset, too.”

“But I shouldn’t have ignored you, like that.” Otabek frowned. “You’re such an amazing creature, Yuri. You deserved better than that. Especially from me, when I was supposed to be the one to care about you, so much.”

Yuri’s eyes softened and he smiled. “Beka…”

Otabek reached up and brushed Yuri’s hair behind his ear. “I hope you’re not too mad at me, for ignoring you like that.”

“Not at all,” Yuri laughed—actually laughed for how relieved he felt—shaking his head. “I thought you were mad at me. That’s why I stopped trying to contact you. I didn’t want to annoy you anymore.”

“You could never annoy me, Yuri,” he said softly, slipping his hand under Yuri’s to lace their fingers together. “So, are you going to go to the wedding tomorrow, then?”

Yuri stared for a moment, internally having a panic attack over how perfect it felt to hold Otabek’s hand, before nodding. “Of course, I’m going. Those two idiots are my friends, as much as I hate to admit it. I wouldn’t miss their wedding.” He bit his lip and glanced away with a blush. “Actually, I was kind of hoping you and I could go… you know… together?”

Otabek let out a long breath of relief that Yuri hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Yes. That was why I wanted to come. I wanted to be your… ah…” For only the second time that Yuri could recall, Otabek blushed. “Your date.”

“Da!” He brightened instantly, everything finally feeling like it was in the right place. “I would like that, very much!”

“Good.” Otabek hesitated for a moment, his thumb rubbing soft circles against Yuri’s hand. “If it would be alright, I’d like to kiss you—”

Yuri didn’t give him a chance to finish before all but pouncing. He threw his arms around Otabek’s neck and held him tightly as they kissed. After the initial shock of Yuri’s sudden appearance on his face, Otabek gripped the younger teen’s waist to hold him still during what he could only describe as Yuri’s assault on his lips.

Yuri was all tongue and teeth, desperately begging Otabek to deepen the kiss. When finally he parted his lips and let his tongue brush against Yuri’s, Yuri let out a low, involuntary moan and Otabek pulled away sharply with a curse.

“What?” Yuri asked, nerves peaking once more. “Was that okay?”

“That was great, Yuri,” Otabek said through a tense jaw. “Amazing, even. Too much so, I think, for so early in our relationship.”

Yuri blinked through his surprise, then grinned. “Relationship.”

Another blush colored Otabek’s cheeks—he was on a roll, tonight. “Ah, if that’s okay with you, I mean.”

Again, Yuri surged forward and pressed another rough, if quick, kiss to Otabek’s lips. “Yes. That sounds perfect, to me.”

“Okay, you two lovebirds,” Yuuri said, leaning out the front door and smiling. “It’s time to get to sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

Yuri grumbled under his breath. “Damn pig with his godawful timing.”

Otabek just laughed and kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, this is the end. There is a future-set epilogue after this, but it's mostly for funsies (and to throw a little more Victuuri love into the mix).
> 
> I may rewrite this story one day, because as I reread it as I posted it, there are definitely things I would change and expand upon. This is my first attempt at any kind of long-form fan fiction in almost a decade, so try to cut me a little slack. ;-)
> 
> Also, for those who wish I'd delved more into the nightmare that was Otabek's experience (I was really mean to him)... I plan to. This story was meant to focus mostly on Yuri, and I threw in some of Otabek's POV for clarity I don't think I could have achieved from Yuri's perspective. I'm currently working on a story from Otabek's perspective in regards to what happened with his family and how that plays into what he's feeling about his relationship with Yuri. So, expect that, eventually, as well.


	22. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This epilogue takes place about three years after the last chapter. I fully embrace the headcanon that Yuri eventually ends up being taller than Otabek, so keep that in mind while reading.

“Beka-kun! Yurio-chan!” Victor greeted as they walked through the door of the resort. “We’re so glad you could make it! We have a big announcement for everyone tomorrow!”

Yuri huffed. “That’s not my—”

“Yuri,” Otabek said, tugging his blond boyfriend closer by the waist, his voice firm. “His name is Yuri.”

A warm blush spread over Yuri’s cheeks as he leaned over to press a kiss to Otabek’s cheek.

Victor blinked at the two, then smiled cheerfully. “Right. Yuri-chan. Come in! You’re a little late; everyone else has already gone to sleep. But I wanted to wait up for you! Did you have a good flight in? I mean, aside from missing your original flight, of course.”

The three sat and caught up for a few minutes, until Yuri’s yawning made it obvious they needed to go to their room.

“Good night, Beka-kun. Good night, _Yuri_ -chan,” Victor said as he shut the door behind him.

Once alone, Otabek gave Yuri a devilish grin. “You slept the whole ride on the plane.”

Chuckling, Yuri reached his arms around Otabek’s neck, leaning down to kiss him deeply. “Well, I had to dump Old Man Nikiforov somehow.”

“Oh?” Otabek nipped gently at Yuri’s jaw, hands resting on his waist. “And why would we need to do that?”

“I think you know why,” Yuri muttered, craning his head as Otabek leaned up to kiss and bite roughly at his neck. “It’s been so long.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure last night at the hotel—”

“You know what I mean, asshole,” Yuri snapped with no conviction as he tugged Otabek’s shirt up over his head. “Yesterday was the first time I’ve seen you in three months.”

Otabek huffed a laugh as he pushed the strap of Yuri’s tank top down his arm to suck at the crook of his neck. “You missed me. Wanted to make up for lost time. I know. It’s why we missed our flight.”

“Yea, but they don’t have to know that,” he muttered as Otabek kissed him again, Yuri’s nails dragging down the front of his chest.

“No,” Otabek, agreed, pushing his lover back towards the bed. “They do not.”

* * *

Yuuri looked up as Victor came in, eyes bleary from near-sleep. “Hmm? I thought you were going to visit with Otabek and Yurio?”

“I was,” Victor said, stripping his robe off. “But they haven’t seen each other in a while. Yuri-chan wanted to get laid, I think.”

Yuuri grunted and curled back up under the blanket. “That’s nice. I hope they’re not too loud.”

“I just hope Christophe doesn’t hear and try to join them,” Victor chuckled as he slipped under the covers next to his husband. “Oh, we can’t call him Yurio, anymore. It’s just Yuri, now.”

“Hmm? Won’t that get confusing?”

Victor shrugged. “I don’t think so. Most of the other skaters have started using your last names, anyway. We were really the only people who called him Yurio.”

“What about when you say it, though? Won’t it get confusing, then?”

“No. He can be Yuri.” Victor glanced over to the adoption paperwork on the nightstand. “I think from now on I’m going to call you Papa.”


End file.
